


An Arrangement

by ellekay



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-07 06:19:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/745275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellekay/pseuds/ellekay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place pre-RE1. Chris and Wesker do a dance every couple of weeks where Wesker gets Chris extremely drunk and then they go back to Wesker's place for sloppy sex, but this time is a little different. Pseudo-fluff ahead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Arrangement

**Author's Note:**

> I may write more pieces in this vein soon, this one was really fun to write and I would like to get back into writing smut. Anyway, enjoy!

Chris flung his arm across a bed that wasn't his, expecting to come into contact with Wesker. With the dim realization that the other half of the bed was empty, he began to wake more fully. He rolled onto his back and dug his palms into his drowsy, dry eyes. Generally, these mornings were accompanied by a terrible light sensitivity, a dry mouth, and aching muscles. This morning, however, he didn't feel quite so hung-over. Not at all, in fact. Chris let his arms drop to his sides and opened his eyes, blinking against the light that filtered in through Wesker's wide bedroom windows.

It was Sunday. Which explained why he hadn't been rudely awakened by Wesker's particularly obnoxious alarm clock.

Chris stood out of bed, stretched, and helped himself to a pair of Wesker's sweatpants before he went out into the living area. Wesker was showered and dressed already, sitting at his kitchen table with a cup of coffee and an open newspaper.

"Morning," Chris croaked, making a bee-line for the coffee.

"Good morning. I trust you slept well," Wesker said, not looking up from his paper.

"Yeah, great, actually." Chris leaned against the counter, looking around. He realized for all of their drunken trysts at odd hours of the morning, he'd never seen Wesker's house in the light. It was immaculately clean, decorated in whites, grays, and blacks. He looked around it with half a smile.

"Is something funny?" Chris glanced back over at Wesker, who had finally looked up at him.

"No, not really, I uh... I've just never really seen your place. You're always rushing me out at God-knows-what in the morning to drop me off at my car, you know?" He walked around the kitchen counter to sit at the table.

"You're wearing my pants," Wesker said with obvious distaste.

"Yeah, yeah, I can take them home and wash them if you want." Chris could almost watch the gears turning as Wesker decided whether or not this was a battle worth pursuing. After a moment, he seemed to decide it wasn't and went back to reading. Chris spent a minute or two in silence, alternating between staring at his coffee, drinking it, and looking around the house.

"Captain," he said abruptly.

"You do not need to address me as 'captain' when you're wearing my pants, Chris," Wesker said in a clipped voice. Chris might have imagined the barest hint of a smile.

"Right. Alb-- no, I can't do it. I'll just call you Wesker."

"That's fine."

"Listen, Wesker," Chris began, leaning forward. Wesker folded his paper and set it down, fixing his attention on Chris. "Are we ever going to talk about this?"

"If you would like to. Though I'm not sure what it is you want to discuss." Chris took a sip of coffee instead of answering. "For what I hope are very obvious reasons, I'd prefer this arrangement to stay casual and between us."

"Well, obviously, yeah." Chris found himself having a hard time looking directly at Wesker. It was uncommon for him to take off his sunglasses, even indoors, so Chris rarely met those intensely blue eyes in such an intimate way. "I'm not even sure what I wanted to talk about. Forget it, I guess." He gulped his coffee with renewed vigor, but Wesker didn't look away, letting the silence hang between them. Eventually, he sat back, straightening his paper slightly.

"This arrangement, I think, has been beneficial for both of us," he began, folding his hands on the table in front of him. "Last night was certainly an indicator of that." Chris wasn't sure if he was going to turn red or sheet white at that statement, but Wesker cleared his throat when he caught the look on Chris' face. "That isn't what I meant. You typically enjoy yourself, that isn't a concern. What I mean is that you weren't inebriated, which was a surprising first."

Chris couldn't deny that. Every previous sexual encounter with Wesker could be explained away by the magic of alcohol, but he was stone-cold sober when he climbed into the passenger seat of the man's car last night. He'd still torn off Wesker's clothes in a frenzy, still clawed at the sheets and the walls and begged him not to stop, and _Christ_ , somehow it had been even better than usual. For some reason, though, he thought he could trick Wesker into thinking he was just as drunk as he always was. He probably should have known better.

"I assumed that since you had come over here with a clear head, you wouldn't want to be ejected as soon as you woke up," Wesker continued. "I didn't intend to send a different message. I'm happy to keep up the pretense, if you'd prefer."

"No, no, this is..." Chris trailed off. He exhaled harshly and looked at Wesker. He was just a man, for God's sake, it wouldn't turn him to stone to look at him. "This is good. I'm fine with this. I've just never had, uh.. an _arrangement_ like this before."

"To be honest, neither have I. Nothing that has lasted this long, anyway."

Chris laughed. "I didn't really peg you as a one-night stand kind of guy, Wesker."

"I didn't peg you as being easily topped or _nearly_ as vocal as you are." Chris' mouth fell open slightly. Wesker gave a half smile, which was really the only kind of smile that didn't look terrifying on him. "Perhaps we shouldn't pigeonhole each other." Chris let out a stunned laugh.

"Alright, damn." He chuckled a couple more times and drained the rest of his coffee. "Got anywhere to be today?"

"I need to stop by my office, I can take you home when I go," Wesker responded evenly.

"Yeah, sure. Listen, do you mind if I scrounge up some breakfast? My last meal was bar peanuts."

Wesker glared at Chris for a moment. Chris responded with what he hoped was a winning smile.

"Not a chance in hell you're using my kitchen, Chris." Wesker took his coffee into the kitchen and went about making breakfast. "And I want those pants back before you leave. The crossword is all yours, but if you get the pages out of order you're working graveyard patrols for a month. Are we clear?"

"Crystal," Chris grinned. "But I'm gonna need a pen."


End file.
